Grand Theft Auto 115
by Awesomedude17
Summary: Two seemingly separate events, in separate worlds end up creating two worlds on a collision course. And most of the guys who caused this don't really give a damn. Grand Theft Auto owned by Rockstar. Nazi Zombies owned by Treyarch. (Not listed: Franklin Clinton, Lamar Davis, Tank Dempsey, and Nikolai Belinski, among other minor characters.)
1. Chapter 1

Grand Theft Auto 115

The sun rose, and in a little old town called Sandy Shores, San Andreas, not a peep was stirring, not even a mouse.

 ***BRAMMM!***

That is, until Trevor got pissed off at someone.

"YOU FUCK, YOU DARE CALL ME A MOTHERFUCKER?!"

It was not that well known a fact, not as well known as the violent nature of said person, but Trevor Phillips hated nothing more than being called a motherfucker, being called Canadian (as much as that is a fact, as it is mind you), and being a hipster. Yet another hick realized this mistake too late, and got a grenade up the ass for his trouble.

"And the next time I see you, which won't happen again, I'll shove tear gas instead!"

" _Umm, we have a... uhhh, assault with a lethal weapon."_

"Shit! Cops!" Trevor growled. He decided the best way to leave was via the train, few people were stupid enough to not check 'em, unless they were actively fighting cops. He saw a train come his way and hopped into the boxcar and rode the way there.

While in the boxcar, he noticed something that was weird, well, weird for a normal Blaine County person, which was weird for a normal Los Santos person, which was weird for a normal person, but weird nonetheless overall. It was steel crate, with a symbol, a hand holding an atom, with the numbers 935 in the center, and next to it, was the number '115.'

Trevor, being Trevor, thought something like this would be high end, and therefore, have a lot of value. Trevor didn't care for money much, he was a multi-millionaire, but he was petty enough to dick around a bit, so he grabbed the box, and when he was in Strawberry, a ghetto in Los Santos, he jumped off, and ran towards his strip club, The Vanilla Unicorn.

* * *

Michael De Santa was relaxing by the pool of his high-end Rockford Hills mansion. He had it all now, a loving family, money, and good friends, or rather, a meth addicted cannibal and a black guy as a couple of friends, but friends nonetheless.

 ***Brrr... Brrr***

Michael picked up his phone and saw it was Trevor, so he answered.

"This better be good T."

"Yeah, pick up Lester and meet me at the Vanilla Unicorn, I just stole this thing in a metal box. I think this might be a lot of money Mikey!" Trevor said with gusto over the phone.

"You ain't serious, are you?"

"Michael, this is something that could set us further in life, the money from the Union Depository is gonna run out soon enough."

"Maybe for you, but I own three theaters, a bar and a marina, what do you own?"

"A strip club, a scrapyard, an airfield, two bars and a nuclear waste search center."

"Shit, really?"

"Yeah, really, you fuck, come over here before I kill your balls with a stun gun and a baton."

Michael tried to answer, but Trevor hung up. Michael just decided to do what Trevor said, and go to the strip club.

* * *

Trevor just sat down at his office at the Vanilla Unicorn, waiting, when he heard a knock. He walked and opened the door.

"Franklin, come in, my N-Word!"

"Yeah, whatever T. So, wassup?" Franklin sat down.

"Welp, there's this." Trevor took out the steel crate and put it on the table.

"Shit Trevor, where'd ya get this?"

"I got it from a boxcar I hitchhiked in."

"Alright, but where's your truck?"

"All the way back in Sandy... Oh you... FAAAAAAA... GRrrr..."

"...You o..."

Trevor stuck out a finger, and glared at Franklin. He got the message, and quieted up.

The door then opened to reveal Michael and Lester, who proceeded to sit down on the couch.

"Alright Trevor, what is it that you called us for?" Lester asked.

"Just a little box of something here." Trevor said through gritted teeth.

"Hmm, I don't recall something like this in the transport logs, Trevor, what's the label say?"

"It says, '935.'"

"Hmm... no no, I never heard of any organization wi... wait... any other symbols on it, markings, serial numbers, anything?"

"Well the 935's in a atom held by a hand, and then there's the number, 115."

"115, well then, what we have here, is an untraceable package. Congrats T, we'll never know what it is!" Michael yelled.

"Oh yeah, well if it's untraceable, then it must be dangerous, or illegal right?" Trevor reasoned.

"Trevor, what box would be made out of steel? It's dangerous, and if we try and open it, we might end up blowing up not only ourselves, but everything in a 3 mile radius." Lester countered.

"Shut up, Moe, we're opening this fucking box!" Trevor took out a crowbar and stuck it into one of the slots.

"Uh, T, I think I'm gonna have to go with Lester here, this thing might blow up." Franklin backed up.

Trevor ignored Franklin and opened the box. With a smile he looked inside.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Uh, Trevor?" Michael cautiously inched towards Trevor.

"A rock..."

"What?"

"It's..." Trevor got angry. "a..." He grabbed a chair and swung it against the wall. "FUCKING..." Trevor grabbed the contents and showed it to the three. "ROCK!"

"What? Are you shitting me? All this metal, and we got ourselves a damn rock?" Franklin may not have been a rocket scientist, but something like this was worthless.

"I've been deceived! When I find out who did this..." Trevor let out a growl. The trio took this a sign to leave, and left. Trevor, in a rage, grabbed the rock, went outside and threw it at a nearby Families OG. He let out a yell of anger and kicked his way back inside.

"Ugh, damn, the fuck that motherfucker hit me with?" The OG, grabbed the rock, and looked at it. And then...

"Whoa, what the fu... aahhhh... Ragh... RAAGH..."

" _ **RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"**_

 ***BANG***

"Shut the _**fuck**_ up!" Trevor went back into the office, leaving a dead OG, and glowing rock. The ambulance came soon after.

They took the rock and the body.

* * *

 _-Meanwhile, in another universe-_

"Zis und zat! Zis und zat!"

"Hey Dicktofen, you mind hurrying up? We're getting boned here!"

"Hold ze position Dempshey, I need to finish ze calculations!"

"Well hurry up, we're losing ammo!"

"And vodka!"

Richtofen sighed. With Dempsey's stupidity (despite the fact that that is only in relation to his own intelligence), Nikolai's drunkenness, and Takeo's... _Vait, vhat is so annoying about Takeo? All he's done is gotten sick because of some rotten fish._

"They come, and we are low on ammo!" Takeo yelled over his comrades gunfire.

 _Zis vill do._ "Everyone, get on ze teleporter, ve need to take a detour zhrough ze east!"

"The east? What are you babbling about now Richtofen?"

"Ve are going to America, dumpkoffe, now schnell!" Richtofen's order resonated in the room. Takeo and Nikolai took a few more potshots before running towards the teleporter.

"This better fucking work!" Nikolai moaned. "Nikolai's legs are tired."

"It vill only be... Oh no..."

"What is it?" Takeo prepared himself for an ambush, grabbing his katana.

"Zat." Richtofen pointed at a rogue enemy, who was thrashing at the console, putting in a new set of coordinates.

"Oh you got to be fu-"

At an instant, the four fighters disappeared, and zombies there soon stopped moving. Eventually, their heads blew up, displeasing their master.

And now, she couldn't sense them at all.

" _ **DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! I WILL GET YOU EDWARD, IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!"**_

But of course, no one heard her, no knew she even existed, except Edward. Oh, how she hated him, and his face, and the fact that he could take hold of what she had.

She hated him, hate hate HATE!

" _ **Oh well, I'll wait, just like last time."**_

" _ **Just, like, last... Time!"**_


	2. Chapter 2

Grand Theft Auto CXV

Michael decided that this was a major waste of time, not that he didn't have a lot of time to kill anyway.

"Well, that was not a smart thing Trevor did." Lester rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, T has always done things first, thought about it later. Almost always because of his temper." Michael retorted.

"...Yeah... you're right."

The two men continued for a while, not speaking for the entire ride back to Lester's house.

Once Michael stopped at Lester's house, the two looked at each other.

"Alright Lester, you need help?"

"No, no, I'm fine Michael."

"You sure? Your legs aren't what they used to."

"Yeah, go fuck yourself." Lester opened the door of the car and crawled out as Michael chuckled.

"See you, Lester." Michael waved goodbye as he began to drive off.

"You too Michael." Lester took his cane and began his climb up the stair to his house.

"Man, I can't believe I went to T for shit like that. Shit!" Franklin shook his head as he drove to his high-end mansion in Vinewood hills on his motorcycle. The mansion was a gift from Lester for doing a 'favor' for him.

"Wonder what Trevor's doing? Probably killing dudes or carjacking or something."

* * *

Trevor opened the car door of a nearby car, shot the unwilling driver with a silenced pistol, threw him out and drove out. This car would do, he'd blow it up when he got to Sandy Shore, but hell, he'd have a little fun before he got home.

"Welp, let's go run over some assholes." Trevor jerked his wheel to the side and began driving on the sidewalk, right into a group of several people, all whom ended up getting killed or severely injured as a result. Trevor smirked at this and drove off.

"Hope the cops don't notice this." Trevor had a look that seemed thoughtful, then scoffed. "Ahh fuck it, I'd have fun either way."

* * *

Michael drove into the driveway of his home, took out a cigarette, and lit it up. He took a long drag of the nicotine-laced stick of tobacco, and then exhaled.

"Sometimes Trevor does things that make things worse for all of us without thinking."

He took another drag of his cigarette and exhaled.

"I should prob..."

 ***BRRRP!***

"THE FUCK!" Michael got out of his car and saw a faint glowing in his house that faded out, and then screams from his family.

Michael ran inside, taking out a handgun, burst through the doors and looked around.

"Ah fuck, stop hitting me with that fucking thing!"

"Y-You just appeared out of nowhere!"

"No shit, fatass, stop... ah... not the golf club, AH, DAMMIT! FUCK YOU, BITCH!"

Michael found himself going into his room, where he saw his son Jimmy hitting some man with his bong, his wife Amanda using a golf club, and his daughter Tracey throwing pillows at the man. Michael just lowered his gun.

"The fuck is going on here?"

"These stupid assholes are... AHG, stop hitting me with that shitty... whatever the fuck that is!"

"It's a bong, retard." Jimmy reeled back and prepared to strike down, but Michael grabbed his hand.

"No." Michael said sternly.

"But..."

"No! Amanda, dear, put the club down."

Amanda tighten her grip on the golf club, and simply let go.

"Urrg... thanks."

"Yeah, I have a first aid kit in the bathroom. Just sit down, and rest up."

"Yeah yeah... fucker."

Michael sighed, and was preparing to shoot himself.

But then again, he always would do something like that when Trevor was involved, which he wasn't, thankfully.

* * *

Franklin pulled over to his mansion, put his bike into the garage, and walked into his home. He docked and turned on his music player and went to his couch, turned on the TV and just chilled.

 ***BRRRP!***

"What in the heck!" Franklin took out his handgun, and went downstairs, when the noise came from.

"Hey! Whoever you are... it ain't funny that you made that damn noise! It ain't funny at all!"

No answer. He slowly inched towards his bedroom.

"Yo, you ain't trying to trip on me, are you, dog? 'Cause if you are, you gonna get capped!"

Still no answer. He got close, and went in.

A man, unconscious.

"Shit, the hell this dude come from?" Franklin decided not to ask, hefted the man, and carried him to the couch upstairs.

"Shit, you heavy as fuck."

After he place the man on the couch, he turned off the TV, which was good, that stupid thing involving those three mastubating monkeys was on again.

"Is this what's entertainment about now? Man, no wonder America's fucked up."

* * *

Trevor did it, he made it to his run down, filthy, potentially hazardous pigsty of a home without that much of a hitch.

Aside from the fact that The Lost MC found him again.

"And then Trevor Phillips has won his battle against the asshole force that is a bunch of pissed off, dumbasses that is... hold for the non-existent applause... The Lost, fucking, MC!"

"Now where's the beer?" Trevor looked around his trailer, and found the pack of Pißwasser beer.

 ***BRRRP!***

Trevor raised an eyebrow, and then shrugged.

"Whatever that was, I don't wanna do it without a good reason."

 ***BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG***

"Nope!"

"Uh, hello, can you let us in? We're stuck in zis place." A high-pitched, hammy voice said.

"How about a fucking motel?"

"We have no money, fucking stripper took it all." A deeper voice yelled in response.

"Vell, for you at least, Nikolai."

"Yeah yeah... fuck you, it's my vodka..." The man snored, and Trevor simply opened the door, flipped the bird at the two men, and slammed the door. He only took a few steps before one of the men kicked down the door, and pointed a gun at Trevor.

"Zat vas not nice."

"Well..." Trevor turned around, and took out a Micro SMG.

"Neither are you."

Gunshots rang through the night, and even worse, sheriffs were right next to the trailer.

"Dammit, it's Trevor again."

"Well then, how 'bout we pay 'im a little visit and finally end it all?"

"Heh, I'd say you're fuckin' retarded, you retard."

"Fuck you, Ah'm ending T, Ah don't care if Ah lose mah jarb." He go out of the car.

"You're gonna die!"

"Yer a pussy!" The foolhardy sheriff took out a shotgun, and prepared to go against the methhead, and end him, once and for all.


	3. Chapter 3

Grand Theft Auto CXV

Michael and the mystery man were at Michael's living room, with the two drinking some scotch.

"So, who are you?" Michael asked.

"Tank Dempsey, badass." He replied with a smirk.

"Dempsey, name's Michael, Michael De Santa."

"Yeah yeah, where the fuck am I?"

"Rockford Hills."

"Rockford Hills?"

"You never heard of Rockford Hills?"

"You do realize that I'm not exactly from here, dumbass." Dempsey replied in a deadpan manner.

"Fuck you." Michael took a cigarette and lit it up.

"Mind if I have one?" Michael looked at Dempsey, then handed the man a cigarette.

"Thanks." Dempsey prepared to light it up when he heard sirens.

"Ignore that, it's happens a lot."

"If that happens a lot, then you live in a shitty neighborhood."

"Hey, I live in a mansion, and I'm a millionare."

"You're shitting me. How? That shit's impossible." Dempsey looked at the man with wide eyes.

"Well..." Michael's phone went off, and Dempsey looked around. Michael decided not even explain, he'd figure it out. He took the phone, and saw it was Franklin, and answered.

"Hey Frank, what's up?"

 _"_ _What's up? I'll tell you what's up, some Asian dude just showed up at my house and he's out cold, dog."_

"Really, well I guess I'm not the only one with an uninvited guest."

 _"_ _You got one of them passed out morons too?"_

"Well, not passed out, but a moron, yes."

"Who are you calling a moron?" Dempsey leaned in with a scowl.

 _"_ _Who the fuck was that?"_

"My guest."

 _"_ _Shit, he sounds scary. Not as much as T, but still."_

"What, are you kidding, no one's tougher than Trevor, I'm just glad he's on our side."

 _"_ _Yeah, whatever, you mind getting over to my house, and for the love of God, do not bring Trevor into this shit. He might confuse the dude for one them Triad assholes."_

"If he is a Triad asshole, then let Trevor kill him, they hung me over a damn meat grinder."

* * *

"And they thought you were gay, man."

 _"_ _Don't mention it, please."_

"Yeah, I'll see ya man, peace."

 _"_ _Later Frank."_

Michael hung up the phone and Franklin sighed.

"I don't know what to do anymore."

And then the phone rang again, and it was Lamar.

"Yo, Lamar, what's up my Nigga."

 _"_ _Shit dog, nothing much homie. What's happening to you?"_

"Some Asian dude's passed out at my house."

 _"_ _Dude, I didn't think yous was a real rent boy."_

"What? No, man, he just appeared out of nowhere."

 _"_ _Nigga, you in denial. Admit it, you love cock as much as cunts."_

"Man, fuck you dog."

 _"_ _Whatever nigga. I'mma just say this, where's my cut for helping you, the crazy dude and the rich motherfucker stop them Merriweather assholes from creeping on you, my nig."_

"Look, if ya want some cheddar, we can talk later, right now, we got some other shit going on."

 _ ***CRRRCK***_

"What the fuck? Yo man, I call you back." Franklin hung up and began to walk to the door, only to suddenly feel a blade get to his neck.

"Where am I?" The man who was only moments ago, passed out, demanded.

"Hey hey, I ain't gonna hurt you dog, for reals."

"You did not answer my question." The man slightly moved his katana, slightly cutting Franklin's neck.

"Alright, Alright, we're in my home, in Vinewood Hills. Now stop that, for real!"

The man made a contemplating sound, right before taking the blade away from Franklin's neck and sheathing it.

"Man, who the fuck are you?" Franklin asked.

"My name is not important now, all that matters is that what I need to do to return to my goal."

"Your goal, the fuck you talking about, homie?"

 **"** **LSPD, drop the weapon, NOW, or we will fuck you up!"**

"I'll eat shit before I do that!" Franklin sighed, knowing fully well who that was, and went to his garage.

"I'm going with you."

"And why's that?"

"I sense you will need me." The man said in a serious tone.

Franklin just took the sirens, Trevor's voice, the man's words and the gunshots outside, and sighed.

 _Man, I gotta learn how to say no._ "Sure dog, you gotta tell me your name after this."

The man nodded and the two got into Franklin's car, a Bravado Buffalo, and got out of the driveway. Not 500 ft from where they drive off, they see Trevor, and two unknown men, in a shootout with the cops.

* * *

"Fuck you, and your capitalist corruption, Вы трахающий полицейских!" The Russian yelled.

"I have no idea what you said, but I have to agree with whatever you called the cops." Trevor said with a psychotic smile on his face.

"Oh, JA! Das ist gut, hahaha!" The German laughed as he shot the head of one of the NOOSE soldiers.

"Fucking psycho!" Trevor said in a positive light. "You're a fucking psycho, Ricky!"

"I try." Richtofen replied with a smile.

"Da, so does Nikolai. Like with sixth wife, she was good at sucky suck time though, hehehe... Get it? Sucky suck, like in, sucking, like... uh, dick?"

"Trevor Phillips is not amused." Trevor said in a mocking, Russian-esque tone.

"You know what, fuck you."

And a white car soon drifted to the three, and the window came down.

"Yo T, get in! And bring yo crazy-ass friends too." Franklin said.

"Alrighty." Trevor merely said, getting in the back seat, then Nikolai and finally Richtofen.

"Who's the asshole in the front?" Trevor asked. Said 'asshole' looked back and saw Nikolai.

"Ohhh, this is wonderful." He replied in a sarcastic tone.

"Takeo? Ah fuck me."

"You two know each other?" Franklin put the car in drive and sped off, cops following the wanted criminals.

"Know each ozzer? Ve fought togezzer, killing und ze bloodsched." Richtofen sharply inhaled and moaned out, "Ze bloodsched... Ja..."

"Some friends you made." Franklin retorted.

"Yeah, well who's the Chinese asshole up front?"

"I am Japanese, not Chinese, you uncultured pig." Takeo looked over to see the cops were about to ram the car, and they did. Franklin's car swerved and swayed, but control was regained.

"Oh, Nikolai does not like shaking." Nikolai gagged, and tried to keep his lunch/vodka mixture down. Franklin noticed and looked back.

"Keep your lunch down, motherfucker, this here's my car!"

"Franklin, look out!" Franklin looked forward at Takeo's warning, and found himself smashing into Michael's car. The two spinned out and soon crashed into a construction site.

"What the fuck!" Michael and Dempsey got out of the car and angrily walked to the other car.

"You screwed up my car!"

"Hey, yo M, I'm sorry, but we got a different problem."

"Franklin?"

"Franklin? Who the fuck's Franklin?" Dempsey got out of the car, slightly dazed. Richtofen noticed, and smirked.

"Dempshey, is zat you? Huh, I zought you were dead, sad." The guys in the car got out, and Nikolai soon expelled the contents of his stomach onto the ground.

"Gross, but we got the..."

 **"** **LSPD, surrender or you'll be killed!"**

"Ah, shit!" Michael looked around, and shook his head.

"Run, now!" The group of seven quietly agreed that the cops were bad news and ran off. At what Dempsey referred to as a 'Five Star Wanted Level,' the group quietly ran off.

"We need wheels!" Trevor yelled. Franklin saw the prime escape vehicle.

"Yo, to that bus!" Franklin pointed at a nearby bus and led the group. Trevor hijacked the bus in the way he knew the best ([GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE BUS!] *SMACK* [AHH!]) and the seven were now driving off, with Franklin at the wheel.

"Where we gonna hide out?" Franklin asked.

"I dunno about you, but since you dragged me into this, you gotta get me out, Trevor." Michael yelled in anger.

"Hey, not my fault these two morons choose to shoot at me, nor is it my fault that those hick cops tried to kill me."

"Speaking of cops, where is body?" Nikolai said with a slight slur.

"Ehh..."

* * *

A train was coming upon a knocked out pair of cops, who did wake up in time before the train pushed the two under it, tearing them limb from limb, battering them, and in general, mutilating them to the point of unrecognizability.

* * *

"They're probably not gonna have any more bad days from here on out." Trevor said.

"Is like what I did to fifth wife, except she was drunk, and she was already dead, with slit throat, after falling, with axe." Nikolai burped and took another drink of vodka.

"What?"

"Dammit T." Michael replied in a tone that said that this happened before.

"Filthy pig." Takeo told Nikolai.

Franklin phone soon went off, and he answered.

"This ain't the time right now..."

 _"_ _This ain't the time, nigga, why not?"_

"Lamar? Listen, we got the five-O on our asses, you mind calling back later?"

 _"_ _Five-O? Shit dog, no way, you tell me where yo ass is at, and I gonna help your asses escape, my nig."_

"Lamar, that is not a good idea!"

 _"_ _Nigga, I'm full of bad ideas, difference is that I make bad ideas good, Nigga. Sides, I see you, yous in a bus with the crazy dude and some hostages, I'm following you right now!"_

Franklin flinched, and there he was, Lamar driving on a motorbike, waving hi. Franklin hung up and shook his head.

"Motherfuck."

With the cops on their tail, and Lamar joining the seven, Franklin decided to calm his nerves. Everything seemed to take slight green hues as time slowed down, and Franklin relaxed. He turned the wheel and made a dime-point turn onto the train tracks. They were now approaching a train.

"Umm, Franklin, you're driving into ze train." Richtofen pointed out.

 _A few more moments._

"Uhh, Richtofen is right, we are driving into train." Nikolai said in a slightly nervous tone.

 _Come on..._

"You're going to get us killed, you fucking dumbass!" Dempsey yelled.

 _Three, Two..._

"Franklin!" Takeo spoke in an authoritative tone.

 _ONE!_ Franklin swerved out of the way of the train, and said train crashed into three cop cars and a NOOSE van. Lamar swerved through the wreckage and followed the bus.

"HOLY CRAP!" Takeo yelled as he fell onto his ass.

Lamar, who was playing it safe, saw the action that Franklin performed and just shook his head, right before he followed the crazy fool in the chase away from the cops.


	4. Chapter 4

Grand Theft Auto CXV

To say that Franklin did a stupid and crazy thing was an understatement. Even Trevor was trying to shake off the shock that almost befell him. He, however, shook it off within seconds and came up to the driver.

"What the fuck was that about?"

"Hey man, we lost the cops, didn't we?"

"Well yeah, and almost lost the living-living part of lives."

"I thought you wouldn't care." Michael spoke up.

"I thought you were even more disgusting than Nikolai." Takeo spoke up too.

"Fuck you, I am drunk."

"OH... oh... ohhhhhhhhh... zat... vas... VUNDERBAR! AHAHAHAHA!"

"Well, at least someone had fun, fucking psycho." Dempsey snarled at Richtofen, who merely blew a mocking kiss to mess with the American's head.

"Well guess what, we're dealing with four men who appeared out of nowhere, who seem to be even crazier than us, and are probably gonna get the cops to kill us one day." Michael said.

"Well, you know what they say, two's a party, three's a crowd."

"So we's a crowd then, right T?" Franklin said as he slowed down in the industrial district.

"Exactly!"

"Jesus, you three are fucked up." Dempsey snarked.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." Trevor hugged Michael, who just deadpanned, and left it at that when Nikolai began snickering.

"Guess you two know each other well."

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up."

* * *

Franklin stopped the bus on the outskirts of Los Santos, where he and the others got off, and Lamar stopped by the bus, and walked up him.

"Hey nigga, the hell you been doing, going round, getting the five-o on yo ass."

"Hey, listen homie, I got lots of reasons, but the one that matters is T." Franklin explained as he motioned to Trevor.

"Well well, if it ain't the crazy dude."

"Lamar, buddy, my homie, wassup, my homedog?"

"What the fuck are you doing?" Nikolai asked.

"Whoa, who the fuck are these motherfuckers?"

"Hey, let me tell you something..." Dempsey walked up to the gangster, but was stopped by Takeo.

"Not now, this is not the time."

"Ya better listen to the Chinese..."

"Japanese." Takeo corrected Lamar quickly.

"Japanese dude homie, or this shit gonna get real."

"Oh yeah, well..."

"Hold on Dempsey, I am liking this person, he makes Nikolai happy, like with second cousin... he was dick." Nikolai took a swig of his vodka and then belched.

"Oh, like I like zis man, ze vay he killed all zose polizeioffizier, it vas..." Richtofen took a sharp breath and exhaled. "...vunderbar, ja."

"... Man, you weird."

"Nah man, that ain't weird." Franklin replied.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked.

"Weird is them internet dudes who watch that kiddie show of lil' girl horses, being all friendly and shit, then make porn of it while jackin' off, then puttin' up on the internet for other weird-ass peoples to jack off on, you know what I'm saying?"

"Why the fuck do they do that, that's fucking sick!" Dempsey yelled in disgust.

"Agreed!" Takeo and Nikolai replied in unison, right before looking at each other in confusion.

Richtofen, who kept a stoic look just spoke in a flat tone.

"Gentlemen, zat is ze early signs of ze beastial fetish, quite disgusting really."

"Man, Los Santos is fucked up." Trevor said while shaking his head.

"Yes it is." Michael took out a cigarette and lit it up.

An awkward silence, and then Lamar broke the silence.

"So, uh, sneaky dude..."

"What?"

"Ya mind telling me why yous been creepin' on those cops back there?"

"Creeping? Listen... Lamar? Lamar, I ain't a creeper."

"No, yous the guy people been calling the guy who's lettin' F here be a rent boy."

"What the fuck's a rent boy?"

"Man, I told you, I ain't a rent boy Lamar!"

"My nig, your still in denial."

"Nigga, I can and will fuck you up, dog."

"Oh, so you want to fight now, nigga come here, I fuck you up right now, come on!"

"Enough, this fighting will get us nowhere, I suggest we split up, groups of two." Takeo pointed at Richtofen, then Trevor.

"Doctor, you go with the smelly one."

"Oh, Nikolai?" Richtofen said in a gleeful tone.

"No."

"Aww."

"It's okay buddy, we're gonna be roommates. Just a heads up, there's only one bed."

"I'll be little spoon, you be big spoon zen."

"Are... you... hitting on me?"

"It's a preference really."

"Does this mean we roommates?" Dempsey asked Michael.

"I dunno, maybe?"

"I will go with funny black man, he is funny." Nikolai joined in.

"What, you think I'm funny? I think I should do comedy club, what do ya think homie?"

"I think it's good for you, since yous a clown, dog."

"CLOWNS? Where!" Trevor said with slight panic.

"I do not like ze clowns, I do not like ze clowns." Richtofen said in a trance and a blank stare.

"I was referring to Lamar, you dumbass."

"Oh, really, okay." Richtofen looked away, right before suddenly turning towards Franklin.

"By ze vay, your breathing pattern is irregular, how about seeing a doctor, hell, I'll do it."

"No!" The other three zombie fighters objected.

"But..."

"NO!"

"Aww... spoilsports."

"Wait, irregular?" Franklin asked with a hint of concern.

"Ja, might be an untreated heart condition, see a doctor."

"What? Man fuck you, man."

"I will go with him, I feel that it might be a good idea." Takeo suggested.

"Wait, after you took a damn katana to my throat?" Franklin objected, showing the no longer bleeding cut along his neck.

"Wait, I thought slit necks bleed more." Trevor said in slight confusion.

"Only if you cut deep, zis vas only a few millimeters, not enough to cut ze carotid or ze jugular, unfortunately." Richtofen explained.

"Man, am I glad I ain't stuck with you."

"Alright, so Trevor and the German are sleeping together, Frank and the Japanese man are staying together, the drunk and Lamar are going to be roommates, which leaves Dempsey here, to join me." Michael said to clarify to himself.

"Sounds good to me." Dempsey nodded.

"Alright, I'll call some cabs."

"Man, I don't need no cabs, drunk dude, get on!" Lamar said as he got on the bike.

"Oh goody, I am riding motorcycle, is going to be fun!" Nikolai got onto the back seat and put on a helmet. Lamar drove off, leave the other six to wait until three cabs came, one for Vinewood Hills, Franklin and Takeo, one for Rockford Hill, Michael and Dempsey, and one for Sandy Shores, Richtofen and Trevor.

* * *

 _ **"ACTION!"**_

"Rawr, rawr... rawr..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake... _**CUT!**_ "

The director went to the zombie actor and slapped him.

"The hell is wrong with you, that extra's a more convincing zombie than you, he's even eating the intern's face off."

"Get him off me, GET HIM OFF ME!"

" **RAAAAAAAAAAGH!"**

"I don't think that's an extra." The actor pointed out.

"Ugh, just get back to work."


	5. Chapter 5

Grand Theft Auto CXV

Michael got out of the Taxi with Dempsey, and sighed.

"Well, looks like you're bumming in my house until you get a job, and a new home." Michael told Dempsey.

"I'm sure you can hook me up with some dough."

"No, you're earning your way to a place." Michael turned away, right before turning back.

"Just a thought, how good are you with a gun?"

"What a dumbass question, I was a marine, I can handle a gun."

"Carbines?"

"Big-ass guns, you name it."

"Okay... Combat MGs?"

"If it fires American ammunition, I'm firing it!"

"We need to take you to an Ammu-Nation tomorrow."

"Sounds bitching. Where am I sleeping?"

"On the couch."

"Fuck. I hate sleeping on the couch."

"Wife troubles?"

"Divorce is a bitch."

"I never would know." Michael sarcastically replied. His phone soon rang, and Michael saw that it was Lester, and picked it up.

"This better be good Lest."

"More along the lines of 'What the hell were you doing, and who were those four people that were with you, Trevor and Franklin?' kind of thing."

"...You saw that?"

"And I stopped it from going viral, on the news, imageboards... simply, not getting you in prison in general. Where are those guys?"

Michael sighed, and handed the phone to Dempsey.

"Yeah, who's this?"

"Have Michael drive you to my place, we need to talk."

* * *

"Alright drunk dude, here we are, my crib." Lamar said as he and Nikolai entered the somewhat filthy house in Strawberry."

"Ehh, is cleaner than first home, and fourth wife."

"What kinda shit home was that?" Lamar asked as he took a beer out of the fridge.

"Shit home, comrade gangster. Shit home."

Lamar rolled his eyes and handed Nikolai a bottle.

"Oh no, I prefer vodka." Nikolai said as he took out a bottle of his own colorless liquid.

"Alright, let's get crunked."

"HE-HEY, yeah! I do not know what crunked is, but it must mean getting drunk!"

"Hell yeah, gimme some of that drink."

"Niet, is my vodka!"

"Oh come on dog, I need some of that drink too."

"Niet! Is my vodka!"

"Nigga, I'm gonna bust a cap in yo ass if you don't give me some of..."

Lamar's phone began to rang, and saw that is was an unknown number. He hung up and went back to the talking.

"As I was saying..."

The phone rang again.

"Someone is calling you." Nikolai pointed out.

"Ya don't say?" Lamar saw the same message, unknown number, and hung up.

"Who was it?"

"Some..."

The phone rang again.

"Motherfuck..." Lamar answered the phone and began to talk.

"Listen motherfucker, I'mma kill yo ass if you keep calling me, alright?"

 _"_ _Lamar, it's Franklin's friend, Lester."_

"What? Nigga, you lying to me."

 _"_ _If I was, I wouldn't be calling you. Put the drunk on the phone."_

Lamar took a deep breath and handed Nikolai the phone.

"Da? Oh... Okay... Where is meeting place? Really? You will put on GPS? I have no idea what that is, but Hell, give Nikolai vodka, and Nikolai will come. Da, I will see you soon comrade." Nikolai hung-up and gave the phone to Lamar.

"Where we going?"

"It is on GPS thingy, you drive, I am too drunk."

Lamar shook his head, and grabbed his keys.

"Nigga, you even more pathetic than me."

"Whatever... *brap*"

* * *

"Alright, you stayin' in my crib until you get yo'self a job and home." Franklin explained as he led the warrior around the house.

"Of course, I do not want to impose on you unnecessariry." Takeo replied.

"Yeah, listen, I ain't forgotten what ya did with that sword of yours to my neck, nigga."

"Forgive me for that, I was in an unknown world, with unknown peopre, with corruption rampant amongst."

"Yeah, and ya speakin' in a way that screams big douche, homie."

"I am not a douchebag!"

"Well stop actin' like one, dog. For real."

Takeo merely blew air in response.

Franklin's phone rang, it was Lester.

"Lester, what's up?"

 _"_ _I'll tell you what's up, come to my home, and pick up the other guy hiding out with you. Put him on the phone."_

Franklin handed the phone over, and Takeo accepted.

"Herro?"

* * *

Trevor and Richtofen were currently digging a grave for three unfortunate victims who decided to call Trevor a 'motherfucker.'

"You know, I vish I killed one of zem, it has been so long since I've done zat to actual living people!"

"Did you get off on killing animals?" Trevor asked.

"Yeeee-Ah, let's go vith zat." Richtofen replied as he struck the ground with the tip of the shovel, and dug it deeper into the ground with his boot.

"So, tell me, what kind of doctor are you?"

"I do a little of everyzing, mostly engineering."

"Engineer, eh? Tell me, do you do chemistry?"

"Uh, not much. If I'm given instructions, I can vork with zat."

"Maybe you could be a bit of an assistant to my cook, Chef. He'll need the extra help, now that demand is up."

"Hmm, cooking chemistry... demand... have you considered distributing opium?"

"Too arid here, plants'll dry up like a frayed, overused penis." Trevor finished digging and went to get the bodies.

"Oh ja, I've dealt vith zose kinds of people. Ze are alvays ze least satisfying." Richtofen said as he threw one body in, not caring for common decency for the dead.

"Tell me about it." Trevor also did the same for the other two bodies, having even less decency for the dead than Richtofen.

After the two literally shoved the dirt into the grave, Trevor got a phone call from Lester.

* * *

The man with a degenerating disease could only shake his head as he hung up on Trevor.

"Goddammit Trevor..." Lester sighed, took off his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his eyes.

 _First, these four come out of nowhere, then reports of people going missing, or going cannibal come up. This cannot be a coincidence._

There was a knock, and Lester saw his first two guests. Michael and his new friend. Michael then used both of his hands to flip of the man.

"Hey fuckface, let us in." Michael said.

"Yeah, yeah, give me a moment."

The comm turned off, and Dempsey shook his head.

"I know that I'm mean to my friends, but that was just..."

"Hey, listen, I ain't the one who has to shove you on the couch, and replace my son as the lazy, good-for-nothing, brat!"

"Good for... that's it, I'm going to..."

*click*

The door unlocked, and Michael opened the door.

"We'll talk about this later."

"Yeah, whatever." The two entered the home, and saw Lester move around in his wheelchair.

"Michael, new person." Lester greeted.

"Lester." Michael greeted back.

"So, this is Lester? Wow, here I thought, he was going to be..." Dempsey didn't know what to say.

"Well..." Lester grabbed his cane, and stood up. "I suppose I should introduce myself. My name's Lester. I'm the guy who helps Michael with his... monetary ventures." Lester moved to his computer, and began typing down some info.

"What's that?"

"That is going to be your fake ID, and I'm going to need some information; age, name, blood type, date of birth, the whole shebang." Lester explained to Dempsey.

"Oh, sure. Name's Tank Dempsey."

"Is that an assumed name? Because, not many mothers name their son 'Tank.'"

"It's my real fucking name!"

"Your real name's Tank? Shit, you father must've been one hell of a military buff."

"World War..."

"Yo, Lester, let me in dog!"

"Da!, And give me vodka!"

"Ah, more guests." Lester remotely unlocked the door again, and let the two in.

"HEY! Nikolai is in the house! Dempsey, you are here, all is good now!"

"Oh joy, I now feel all warm and fuzzy inside." Dempsey sarcastically replied.

"Wassup, niggas!" Lamar yelled out. "Hey, Sneaky Dude, whassup dog?"

"I'm alright, I got an asshole who's going to live on the couch."

"Fuck you." Dempsey barked back.

"OH, Dempshey, manners." Richtofen replied as he and Trevor waltzed into the building.

"How'd you get in here?"

"I broke your fucking window." Trevor said, motioning towards the shattered window near Lester's bedroom.

"Gee T, you're real fucking nice." Michael snarked back.

"Fuck you, fatty."

*Knock knock knock*

"Yo, I'll get it!" Lamar opened the door, and saw two familiar sights.

"Hey, wassup my nig." Lamar said as he fist-bumped Franklin's fist.

"Nothing much dog, just dealin' with some Asian..."

"Japanese." Takeo corrected.

"...Japanese dude livin' in my crib dog."

"Ah, Franklin, it's a tight fit here, but I think we can talk here now."

"Oh gut, let's get started on ze talkings, joooooooooy!"

"Jesus, that dude's creepy." Franklin muttered.

"Yo, come up with that shit." Lamar ordered Lester.

"Right, so, once again, my name's Lester, and I need you all to put up with this for a few moments."

The four zombie fighters nodded and took a seat. The other four stood by, listening.

"So, you four, just appeared out of nowhere, for no reason, in random places."

"Hmm, ja, zat seems likely, just as likely as Nikolai shmelling good for once."

"Heh heh, I do smell." Nikolai took a drink of his vodka. "Big surprise, no?"

Lester shook his head, and went on.

"You four... have nothing as a result, so we are going to give you some options now."

"Like what?" Dempsey asked.

"I invested in some businesses that Franklin owns, mainly Los Santos Customs, and a towing lot."

"Huh, that's neat." Dempsey said, somewhat unnerved, but keeping his cool.

"Oh, how much?"

"About... $2,000 in stock for all four of you."

"Oh, is zere an inflation? Zose can be sooo bad, ja."

"Well, one dollar would get you a quarter cup of coffee here."

"So, we're broke?" Dempsey replied, annoyed at this bad luck.

"Eh, Nikolai was poor before, I do not mind."

"Yes, I also got some business ventures in plan for you four later on, we do have a supply of gems coming in from a gem manufacturer from Vice City, if we can plan for it, we can intercept the shipment, and get you four some cash."

"What? Are you suggesting that we stear the gems?" Takeo raised an eyebrow.

"Really dirty stuff, should we even do this?" Dempsey said, not really sure about doing this.

"Hey, fuck the rich, they choose to squander money on jewelry with no reason other than to look good, it sickens me. I will help out." Nikolai said.

"JA, I vish to steal ze gems, und spill ze blood!" Richtofen grinned widely, anticipating this heist.

"Very werr, I wirr join, if onry to benefit the others." Takeo resolved.

Dempsey sighed, and shook his head.

"This plan's fucking stupid." Dempsey started. "But I need the cash. I'm in."

Michael came forwards, and added his two bits.

"You need a gunman helping you."

"Or two." Trevor came forward as well.

"And you need a driver too." Franklin added.

"Hey, ya know what, I'm in Gs." Lamar came forward as well.

"So, we got six gunmen, and two drivers... Yeah, that'll work. We'll need guns, and escape vehicles... preferably, ones that can go in and out quickly..."

"Ambulances?" Trevor suggested.

"No, too obvious. We can steal police vans though, they'll be important." Lester then set up a projector, and showed off his plan.

"Okay, we'll need to go along with this." Lester started. "The van is a highly armored truck, not quite as much as the armored trucks that the 'Unholy Trinity' have stolen from, but still good. We have two options."

"Vhat are zey?" Richtofen inquired.

"Well, we can straight up destroy the path, stall the drivers long enough to go in, grab the gems, and get out."

"Won't that attract the cops?" Trevor asked.

"Yes, but they'll be our cops. Lamar and Franklin will sneak into the police station in Mission Row and take some NOOSE gear for when the heavy response comes. You two will 'arrest' the gunmen and take them out with gunmen of your own."

"Ingenious." Nikolai remarked.

"Yes. The other option is to blow it up, take the gems, and have our two drivers race you out, but the police response will be massive, about half the area's response team will come in. For this, we'll need guns, lots of them. We'll also need fast cars."

"So we boost 'em?" Lamar asked.

"Yes, we will. It's all up to you, but we'll need them to be at least four passenger cars."

"Alright, I think we can manage." Tank nodded his head.

"So, what's your choice?"

"Hmm..." Nikolai took a second, and chose.

"I like first plan, it is sneaky."

"Alright, we got a plan. We'll need armor, guns, and a whole lot of burlap bags.

"So we doin' this?" Franklin asked.

"Yes, get the supplies ready, this heist will be done in two weeks. Gentlemen, I will see you soon enough." Lester concluded as the group finished their plans.

"Alright, let's go home guys, we got planning to do." Tank said as he got up and walked out the door.

Soon, everyone got out of the home, leaving Lester to set up the final marks of his plan.

* * *

"RAR, I will eat your brains."

"GRAAAH!"

"Raa? Hey, I'm the Vinewood Zombie here, piss off."

"GAH!"

"Yeah, well fuck you too."

"GRRRRR..."

"Okay, you want me to kick your ass?"

"RAAAAGH!"

The two zombies began a fist-fight, which the police noticed. The two opened fire, and the more alive zombie was hit in the shoulderblade.

The less alive zombie was shot in the head, and was dead.

"You wanna make sure that zombie's alive?"

"Fuck no, let the EMT's handle that shit."

And the two cops went back to eating their sandwiches.

"GAH GAH GAH!" The oranged eyed zombie groaned as its leg as shattered from the 9mm bullet splitting it in two.


End file.
